


DJ'in' while BJ'in'

by Vizodi



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Public Sex, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-14
Updated: 2012-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-07 17:42:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vizodi/pseuds/Vizodi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Corny title.</p><p>The Strider brothers' Derse nightclub is four years old! Not to mention it's also John's birthday.</p><p>Dave certainly didn't expect the birthday boy to be under the table while he was DJing the night away.</p><p>Fill for the kinkmeme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	DJ'in' while BJ'in'

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this up like three days before John's birthday. I thought it was appropriate. Now I shall post it here.
> 
> [Prompt](http://homesmut.livejournal.com/15949.html?thread=34267213#t34267213)
> 
> _"Dave trying to DJ while John sucks him off._
> 
> _Public sex optional."_

Gigs at the  _Derse_  nightclub on weekend nights is a time where the two Strider brothers can just kick back, relax, and mix up some sick beats for the crowd of party-goers on the dancefloor below. Back then you and your Bro bought this shitty building with whatever money you had saved up to start a nightclub, and with the help of generous donations from your friends and various benefactors.  
  
  
 _(A twenty thousand dollar cheque came in from two of your friends one day, and the valuable piece of paper had the ‘Betty Crocker’ logo as a watermark in the background - you and Dirk gave Jane and Feferi the most unironic group hug right there and then.)_  
  
  
After all the necessary renovations and hiring, the both of you opened  _Derse_  up for business, and word quickly got out that THE Strider Brothers owned that nightclub _(you and Bro were pretty famous in the club scene - that’s also how you got over half your funds to get Derse up and running)_  and soon people were making a line behind the red velvet rope right outside your club, with the trusty Equius Zahhak acting as the best damn bouncer in the entire city.  
  
  
...Damn.  _‘Your_ ’ club; yours and Dirk’s club - you still can’t believe the both of you finally achieved your dream jobs.   
  
  
It’s been four full years since the opening of  _Derse_ , and tonight - a Friday night - not only celebrates its fourth birthday, but John Egbert’s twenty-second year of living. A grin stretches across your face at the memory of his bright smile when you surprised him this morning by breaking into his apartment and cooking breakfast for him. The two of you were almost inseparable the rest of the day, sans a few brief events:  
  
  
In the afternoon (after a three-hour long session of playing video games) you and the birthday boy began walking to find a place for lunch. On the way you ran into Vriska, who briefly pulled John away from you to give him the sloppiest kiss on the cheek, and all of the National Treasure movies - limited edition, of course. John cried like a baby and clung to his moirail for five minutes before finally calming down so the both of you could get coffee from the nearest café (and probably the only café you’ve heard about that wasn’t Starbucks).   
  
  
Jade and Nepeta were on their shifts once the both of you got to the café, promptly surprising John with a cupcake with a lone lit candle on top of it, singing  _‘Happy Birthday’_  at the top of their lungs and somehow getting the rest of the café to sing along. Rose and Kanaya were there beforehand, but they just finished their coffees and got up to leave - not before the both of them giving John a friendly birthday kiss on the cheek, and you now probably sporting a bruise on your upper left bicep.  
  
  
 _(“Nice Egbert; look at you get all these bitches. Turn off your swag, man - or stop stealing mine to make up for your lack of manliness-- Ow! Shit; I was kidding, John!”)_  
  
  
Now skip fast forward over to the late afternoon, where you and John visited the ever-so-grumpy Karkat in his shared apartment with Gamzee. The Cancer shoved a small wrapped package in John’s hands  _(“Happy Wriggling Day, fuckass.” “Aw; thanks Karkat!” “Don’t mention it - no really, don’t.”)_  and, just as planned, told John and you to get in the car  _“because I’ve got a fucking surprise for you.”_  John was confused as to why you stopped in front of Derse when the sun hadn’t set yet, but he quickly realised what was happening when he overheard Roxy muffled shout of  _“everybody shut up and fuckin’ hide!”_  Karkat facepalmed while you and John laughed at the fuck-up.  
  
  
So yeah. There was a surprise party for the Egbert male in the club, and the prankster grew wary of the giant cake sitting on top of the table in the middle of the floor.

  
  
_(“A stripper isn’t going to jump outta there, right?”_   
  
  
_“Well, we wanted to get Davey into the cake to jump out and give you a lap dance--”_   
  
  
_“Roxy! Th-That really isn’t necessary...”_   
  
  
_“Nonsense, Johnny! ‘Sides, you know you wa~ant it--”_   
  
  
_“Forget it, Ro. You are not getting me into that leopard-print g-string and black bow tie; I refuse to look like a slutty Chippendale dancer.”_   
  
  
_“Phooey.”)_

A few hours later and here you are, grinning like an idiot at the events that transpired beforehand as you turn a dial up and scratch at the turntables in front of you. A glance at the bar makes you raise an eyebrow; Dirk, Roxy and Vriska were looking your way with sly smirks on their faces. You’re sure they would’ve turned away from your glance if you didn’t have your ever-present aviators on to hide the action. Jeez; what’s got them looking so smug and shit?  
  
  
Your eyes drop back to the tables and [you quickly start up another track](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vWK84s7c84E) as the current one begins to trail off to an end. As you adjust the timing slightly to make it transition smoothly from one song to another, a warm hand suddenly caresses the inside of your thigh through your trousers. You choke back a surprised gasp and almost scratch the turntable reflexively  _(‘Wait shit; these aren’t my timetables.’)_. While your hands work on the dials and knobs of the DJing equipment as the music builds up, your gaze subtly drops down and narrows as you spy a hand - a familiar male hand - drum their fingers against your right knee.  
  
  
 _“John,”_  You hiss as loud as you can over the music. “What the fuck are you doing?”  
  
  
From this angle you can’t see the top half of his face hiding underneath the table amongst the records and cables, but you do see his lips pull up into a grin that instantly put your senses on alert. Shitshit _shit_  that was John’s prankster grin - the kind of expression on his face when shit’s about to go down. Oh god why now? You can’t afford to mess up this track; it’s _Derse’s_ anniversary for fuck’s sake!   
  
  
You see his lips voice out a reply, but the noise is too overwhelming to make out what he’s saying.   
  
  
And then suddenly John leans up and presses a hard kiss against your clothed inner thigh.  
  
  
 _What._  
  
  
You shudder slightly as his hands begin running up your legs, going all the way up to cup your ass and knead it gently. Oh Jesus what the hell was he doing _OHMYGOD._ You bite down hard on your bottom lip as he nuzzles the side of his face against your growing hard-on  _(oh wow when did that get there)_ , and then John catches the zipper with his teeth and pulls it down, all the while keeping his mischievous blue gaze trained on your face. If you weren’t too busy finishing off your second-last shift for the night you would’ve forced him to spill  _why he was doing this_  - right before attacking his lips with your own and fucking him to the ground.  
  
  
But no. You can’t. Gotta keep your cool, Strider; you’re in public, DJing and keeping up appearances for your guests. You’ll let it slide - for now - on why your best friend was torturing you like this and  _oh shit_  now he was rubbing his palm against your dick. A small moan escapes your lips, but thankfully due to the blaring beats it just looks like a normal sigh from a distance. You’re half-tempted to kick John in the side and demand for him to stop trying to mess up the music, but at the same time you want to join him under the table and return the favour.   
  
  
Your gaze whips up back to the tables to quickly double check that everything was in order. Yep; it’s all as it should be - except that you need to adjust this one dial so that the pitch is just right--  
  
  
And then John frees your cock from the confines of your bright red boxers and gently scrapes his teeth up the length of it.   
  
  
Your hand slips and the music goes a little too high-pitched for a fraction of a second, before you adjust it to adequate levels. A quick sweep of the crowd makes a sigh of relief escape your lips; okay, they’re too distracted to even notice your little blunder there. You feel Dirk’s inquiring gaze on you, however, his trained ears picking up on the mishap immediately. Without turning to meet his look, you nonchalantly wave at him and then the feeling of his unseen stare on you disappears. Good, good; hopefully he didn’t notice the hot flush on your cheeks because  _holy fuck;_  John just wrapped his calloused hand around your dick and gave the head a quick kiss.

A hiss escapes your teeth and your legs almost buckle from under you as a wet tongue runs across the slit, and John starts pumping slowly and oh god  _if you weren’t so busy right now...!_  
  
  
The urge to buck your hips into John’s hand is successfully resisted by sheer willpower, and you are rewarded with his warm lips engulfing the tip of your cock and sucking lightly. Oh god; you feel impossibly hot at the moment, and the clothes on your back suddenly feel really stifling all of a sudden. You lift up your shades by just a fraction to glare down at John, who just pulls away with a barely-audible  _‘pop’_ , shooting you this stupid, sexy smirk of his, before putting you back into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the head. You can’t help but buck your hips forward just the slightest - in time with the rhythm of the music - and John just takes it all in stride. In fact, he welcomes more of your cock with a little hum that makes a groan escape your mouth.  
  
  
John’s free hand went down to fondle your balls while he continued to tend to your throbbing dick. You can hear the blood pumping through your ears over the loud-as-fuck music from the speakers, and you swear your face probably looks so flushed at the moment it’s a wonder that it isn’t glowing like a fucking light bulb in the darkness of the club. Thankfully, the flashing multi-coloured lights hid the blush very well, and the patrons didn’t even notice your weird behaviour, too caught up in their dancing/mingling/drunkenness to care.  
  
  
“I am going to fuck you so hard after this shift, I swear.” You growl at him, and he just laughs at you and it sends pleasant vibrations down your length. “You brought this upon yourself, John. I am going to make sure you won’t be able to walk for a  _week.”_  
  
  
He briefly pulls his mouth away to plant his lips against the side of your dick; you can feel him mouthing words, his hot breath washing over your dick and making it twitch. You watch as he slowly mouths something along the lines of,  _“Looking forward to my present, Dave,”_  against your skin.  
  
  
 _Fuck._  
  
  
“You little slut.” You let out a breathless chuckle, and John just sends you this dorky grin that’s so John you can’t help but give an unironic grin back. He licks the pre-cum off your slit in a torturously slow manner in warning, before he takes you entirely into his mouth.   
  
  
 _“Holy shit,”_  You hiss.  _(‘Oh god where was his gag reflex?!’)_. You can feel your cock press against the back of his throat, and John starts fucking humming to the music that teasing bastard. A strangled moan escaped your lips as he continues to sent vibrations and slowly bobbing his head in time with the beat. One of your hands grip the edge of the tables tightly, while the other falls down on top of John’s soft head of hair as you pet him encouragingly.   
  
  
He gives a particularly hard suck, and you jerk your hips forward in reflex. John lets out this approving groan that you can feel and it’s fucking heavenly, so you begin gently thrusting your cock into his hot little mouth in time with the music. He rubs your hipbones as you fuck him in the mouth, and he hasn’t taken your eyes off you for a second ever since the start. His blue eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, his flushed face illuminated by the various flashing lights. As your gaze trails down you can see him palming himself through his trousers.  
  
  
John can see you’re close; your hand in his hair is trembling slightly, and you're biting down on your bottom lip so hard it’s on the verge of bleeding. He makes sure he has your complete attention, and his piercing blue gaze meets your red ones from the bottom of your aviators as he slowly takes your length out of his mouth. He grins and presses his lips against your swollen head, mouthing three words against it that you didn’t even need to hear to understand:

_“Come for me.”_

And you do. Your sudden shout becomes a hiss through your teeth as you allow yourself to come on John’s face. He opens his mouth and swallows up as much as he can, rivulets trailing down the side of his lips and dripping off his chin. As you regain all coherent thought after that mindblowing orgasm, he cleans up the rest of his face with a handkerchief he plucked from your pockets. He gently cleans whatever spunk is left on your dick, tucks it back into your underwear and puts your clothes back on properly. And then he winks it you.  
  
  
You kneel down to kiss him hard and shove your tongue in his mouth, and he responds with a relieved moan as you taste yourself on his tongue. You pull away, grab his shoulders, lift the both of you up and drag him off the stage before the song is even finished.   
  
  
“Where are we going?” John shouts over the blare of the speakers. The both of you weave through the mass of drunken dirty dancers on the floor and make your way to the side of the bar.  
  
  
“There’s a room upstairs where we’re gonna stay in for the rest of the night.” You growl, your free hand digging into your pocket for the backroom keys.  
  
  
John laughs, and then you’re suddenly stopped in your tracks as Dirk, Roxy and Vriska stand in your way. Your three friends had grins on their faces, and Dirk had three fifty-dollar notes in his hands. He was looking at the both of you pretty smugly, and it doesn’t take you long to make the connection.  
  
  
“No,” You deadpan, and slapping John’s hand away from the cash. The birthday boy pouts at you.  
  
  
“He won this fair and square, Daaaaaaaavey,” Vriska drawls. “He’s just here to collect the winnings.” She and Roxy started giggling like two schoolgirls.   
  
  
“I would’ve done it even if you guys didn’t pay me.” John grins, and your stomach flips at his words.  
  
  
 _“Still,”_  You stress, pulling John to your side. “You can pay him after I’m done with him. I don’t want to feel like I’m gonna have sex with a hooker, for God’s sake.”  
  
  
Dirk sends you a disapproving look, “Who’s going to man the music then?”  
  
  
“You. I’ll make it up to you, bro.” You promise, and begin dragging John away towards the backrooms.  
  
  
\--  
  
  
It wasn’t a week, which was sort of disappointing, but John couldn’t walk properly for three days straight.

**Author's Note:**

> I still can't believe I wrote this.


End file.
